


Set Me on Fire to Keep Me Warm

by gutturalmess



Series: What If... [6]
Category: CodotVerse, DC - Fandom, DCU, Rogues Podcast
Genre: CodotVerse DCAU - Freeform, Devil in Disguise (a Harley Quinn tag), Edward being a manipulative bastard, F/M, Le Vicomte et La Marquise (an Edward Nygma and Harley Quinn tag), One Rogue Leads Another (a Gotham Rogues tag), Pulling their strings (an Edward Nygma tag), Rare Pairings, Threw this one in the editing thresher and brought it back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutturalmess/pseuds/gutturalmess
Summary: Biting her lip, Harley shifted her hips back and forth in silence; the warmth of his body against hers, the scent of his cologne, those wicked fingers she’d previously looked at with such longing now massaging her so persistently… he was destroying her ability to think straight.“Turn off your brain,” he said; he probably meant to sound cosseting, but all she heard was his sadistic enjoyment of her unravelling state of mind.In this kind of contest he would always win: she gave in.Now with epilogue!
Relationships: Edward Nygma/Harley Quinn
Series: What If... [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680877
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. The Fire

**Author's Note:**

> It's important to note that this is a serious deviation from CodotVerse canon. This hasn't happened - but if it were to happen, this is one of the more likely scenarios of how it would go.

As soon as they were safely inside Edward’s apartment, he closed and bolted the door; Harley wrung her hands as she paced the carpet. 

“Well, that was a spectacular explosion,” he mused. “Good thing Joker’s indestructible, huh?” 

“Ohh, I just know it, Eddie - he’s dead.” 

“Well, just wait, be patient,” he said, flinging his hat across the room like a discus. “No doubt he’ll turn up like the bad penny he is.” 

“I think this might be it,” she said, dropping down on his couch, face falling. “I dunno how he’d survive it.” 

Harley dropped her head and closed her eyes, bottom lip trembling; a tear fell straight from her eyes down onto her thighs, a dark pool bleeding into the fabric. 

“Hey, it’s alright.”

“No it ain’t,” she whispered, looking up in despair. “Eddie, help me.”

Edward cast about in helplessness, kneeling in front of her. 

“How can I possibly?” 

“There’s one thing I can think of.” 

“Name it.” 

“But,” she took a breath and swallowed. “I think ya’ll say no.” 

“Try me,” he smiled tightly, growing impatient. 

“Will ya fool me?” 

He blinked. “Will I what?” 

“I need to be distracted - spin me some fanciful thing to make me forget.” 

“Spin…” Edward stared at her. “What are you asking me to do?” 

“Seduce me,” she whispered. 

“I - but…” his mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You want me to mark you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You cannot be serious.” 

“Not like I’m gonna put up a fight, so it’d just be a li’l seduction.” 

“Harleen,” he dropped his voice; she covered her face. “They never are.” 

“Aw, don’t call me that, Eddie.” 

“Precious swallow,” he said softly, pulling away her hands and tipping up her chin. “You know me.” 

“Yeah, so what?” 

“My - well, I’d never call it an inadequacy, because I don’t see it that way, but… ” 

“The fact that ya don’t wanna fuck me, never have, and never will?” 

“Ah, so it’s not just a sweeping romance you want from me - no cut to the fireplace. You want the whole nine,” he smirked. “As it were.” 

“Everyone knows I can’t do half measures, honey,” she murmured, touching his cheek. 

“Meaning what, in this instance?”

“Might be the only time I get a prize like you, so I want all ya willin’ to give.” 

“And you know flattery doesn't work on me,” he smiled, taking her hand. “Yet still you persist.”

“Tellin' the truth,” she said. “I know ya don’t want me…” 

“Or anybody else, my darling,” he interrupted, squeezing her hand. “It's not personal.” 

"Can't help but take it personal,” she said, looking up at him. “Bad for the ego, when a hot piece a cheese like yaself only sees a gal for her… personality." 

"Can't say such an eventuality ever crossed my mind." 

Harley gave him a shrewd look. 

"What about Selena?" 

Edward laughed. "I stand corrected. She told you about that?" 

"Got liquored up and spilled the beans. Still pissed about it." 

"Good. She thought I'd be easy," he shrugged, smiling. "Like any other man. It was quite satisfying to tear a thick strip off her ego." 

"Said ya had some mouth on ya. Sussed what she wanted, and teased her with it." 

"And then denied it," he nodded with a satisfied smile of recollection. 

"See? I know ya the best." 

“Be that as it may, you know that whatever I come up with, it will only be a counterfeit.” 

“Do ya normally tell people that?” 

“I don’t want you to be disillusioned.” 

“That good, huh?” 

“You know I am,” he said, resting his hands on her knees. “Or you wouldn’t be asking.” 

“Yeah.” Harley stroked the line of his jaw. “Just this once?” 

Edward twisted his lips together, looking away; she pushed on. 

“Easy for ya, ain’t it? Sex means nothin’ to ya.” 

“Yes, but you don’t,” he said, turning back to her. 

“Don’t what?” 

“Mean nothing to me.” 

“Then do me this one thing,” she said, grabbing at this new line of reasoning like a lifeline. 

“Look,” Edward growled, annoyed. “I know how easy it is for you to cry on command.”

“Ya right, usually it’s fake,” she murmured, “but this is the worst I can remember feelin’... and I don’t usually get sad about anythin’ at all.”

“That sounds like grief juggled between ignorant hands, my little psycho,” he gave her a fond smile and stroked her knees. “It would appear that you actually love him, then.”

“Heckuva way to find out,” she choked on the words.

“Yes. Now listen,” Edward gave her a hard look. “You’d better not be fucking with me.”

“What do I have to gain?” 

“Leverage,” he said. “Always leverage.” 

Dry heat pricked at her eyes again; she swallowed. 

“I love how much faith ya have in me, I really do, but -” she drew in a shuddering breath, “ya won’t find anyone sorrier than me that this is real.” 

Staring intently to analyse her face, he became strangely reticent and reluctant; she looked up as a second tear crawled down her cheek and fed black through white. 

Edward sighed and took both her hands. 

“You do need this, don’t you.” 

“Yes,” she nodded. “I need to shove my head in the clouds.” 

“Why me, darling?” 

“The game,” she took a long breath. “Ya know how I do.” 

“Mm-hm.” 

“Describe it to me.” 

“Hm.” Edward furrowed his brow as he put the words together. “Devastating in your destruction. A landmine, made flesh." 

“Thank ya,” Harley smiled. “As for you, ya devil - ya lure ‘em in like a big green spider. Ya hit rate sometimes beats mine.”

"And you've already walked into my parlour, little fly," he whispered with a grin; she chuckled. 

“So can ya blame me?" 

“I suppose not.” 

Edward closed his eyes, head dropping forward; his voice was soft. 

“But what if he’s alive, Harley? What then? Being taken apart for the sin of bringing you pleasure is not the way I wanted to die… ” he huffed out a cynical chuckle. “I'd much prefer to see Jon take that honour." 

Harley tilted her head to one side. 

“Speakin’ o’ Jonny… proves I can keep a secret.” 

Edward gave a hollow laugh of affirmation, turning away. 

“Oh yes, you two kept that from me, alright.” 

“And, if he is alive,” she said, breath catching, “I’d be in the soup too.” 

“No way,” he scoffed. “Your precious all day sucker believes every story you care to spin. For a psychopath, he’s ridiculously gullible where you’re concerned.”

“He loves me,” her voice was tiny, stricken.

“As much as he’s able, I’m sure. Plus, in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve seen you spin your lovely lies like Arachne at her wheel.” 

“Yeah, I know ya don’t trust me.”

“It’s a compliment, believe me.”

“I do,” she smiled. “But please believe when I say I’m bein’ honest. As much as I’m able.”

Edward didn’t reply.

“I swear I won’t tell. Him or anyone else. This is just for me. Please,” she begged, slipping from his grip to grasp at his hands. “Please.” 

“Why do you want this so much?” Edward said, looking up at her. “Besides the obvious.” 

"I know ya won't treat me like a piece of meat," she said. 

Tilting his head to one side, he gave her a sly grin.

“And here I thought that’s how you like it.”

“Ya know what I mean.”

“I imagine I must.”

"And… I want ya to ‘cause ya my friend.” 

“Now I’m no expert,” he shook his head, “but that cannot be normal friend behaviour.”

“We've never been normal,” she said, the words sounding sadder than the levity she intended. 

“Yeah.” 

He fell silent, looking away from her. The only sound in the room was her breathing and the bubbling of his empty, glowing fish tank. Edward tweaked her chin, a smile creeping across his face. 

“You look like a heavy metal groupie who fell asleep in a puddle.” 

“I bet,” Harley laughed, relieved that he hadn’t chosen simply to sling her out on her ear, which had been a likely outcome. 

“Let’s get that makeup off your face. Stay here.” 

“‘Kay,” she said, watching him go. 

With a despondent sigh she pulled off her cowl, tossed it to one side, and then kicked off her boots. She sniffed and pushed the loose strands of hair off her face with both hands, transferring smears of white greasepaint onto her fingers.

“Man, I hope he does it,” she murmured, hanging her head and rubbing the paint into the fabric of her leggings. “‘Cause I fuckin’ hate feelin’ these stupid fuckin’ emotions.”

As she sat up and fell back into the yielding material of the couch, she scratched at the cushion by her thigh.

“Ooh, I wonder how many gals saw their life flash before their eyes right here,” she said with a small giggle; she lifted her eyes to the ceiling and stared at the lights. 

“Fuck, I need the high of a lie,” she gritted out between her teeth. “Make me believe, baby.”

Edward returned with a blue bottle and a handful of cotton pads; he had shed his jacket and tie, rolled up his shirt sleeves and put on his glasses. As his presence was now steeped in the possibility of some unpredictable future seduction, Harley found herself watching him move with fond, lustful affection. 

“Ya took off ya mask,” she noted, peeling off her own.

“Mm. I wanted to take my contacts out.” 

After taking a knee in front of her, he squirted some makeup remover onto one of the pads. 

“Yours still good?” 

“Yeah. Besides, ain’t got my glasses with me.” 

“True. Alright, close your eyes.” 

With a twitching smile, she acquiesced; he started with her eyes, black streaks immediately staining the white cotton. The companionable silence in which he worked was peaceful, making Harley start to relax as he cleansed her skin. 

“Even took ya gloves off,” she murmured. 

“Nothing but the best for you,” he said absently, lifting her chin with one hand as he removed her lipstick with the other. “I see you continue past the tide line.” 

“All class for this ass.” 

Edward chuckled. “Then I must ask that you remove your jacket.” 

“Oooh,” she teased, waggling her eyebrows. 

“Hey, if you want to look like your neck got bleached, be my guest.” 

“I got it,” she grinned, unzipping the jacket. “Where do I put this?” 

“Just drop it, I’ll deal with it later.” Harley held out one arm and let the jacket fall. “No blood on you this time, that’s good.” 

“White tank makes it super easy to see.” 

“Does. Now hold still.” 

“Yes sir,” she said, biting her grinning bottom lip; Edward worked the cleanser down her neck and against the roots of her hair, cleaning up the last of the seeped-in edges. 

“You must keep cleanser in business,” he said. “So much to remove at the end of the night.” 

“‘S all aesthetic, ya know.” 

“Oh, I sure do. You can open your eyes now.” 

Cautiously, she did. Blinking in the light, she made eye contact with Edward, who touched his fingertips to her cheekbone. 

“You look so much younger without all that slap. Wait here while I get rid of this stuff.” 

“Sure.” 

Exhaling, Harley looked around: he had such wonderful taste. Anyone who thought Eddie would decorate just with shades of green doesn’t know the man at all, she marvelled. 

“This place is fit for a damn king.”

Edward returned with a comb, and a smile; she stared at the former.

“For your hair,” he said, vaulting over the couch to settle against one arm. “Come hither madam,” he beckoned her, gesturing to the vacant space between his legs. 

Moving up the length of the couch, Harley turned, rested her hands on his thighs, and lowered herself down like she was sliding into a bath; he laughed. 

“And I thought I was dramatic,” he murmured, untying her twin buns and tossing the elastics aside. 

“Y’ain’t cornered the market on it,” she smiled, closing her eyes as he combed out her hair, sighing with contentment. 

“You want this braided, or anything?” 

Harley giggled. “Oh, you cannot braid hair.” 

“Can too,” he gave her hair a playful tug. 

“When did ya learn that?” 

“I was a Boy Scout,” he began, then hurried to cut her off when she opened her mouth again. “And before you say anything, yes. I was. Why does no one believe me when I say that?” 

Harley shrugged and pressed back against him, feeling like she had melted into molding clay. 

“‘S hard to picture…” she murmured. “Eddie bein’ a good little boy…” 

"It's beneficial to know knots, I find. All the same, you can help yourself across the street,” he said, penetrating the shower of silky gold to massage her scalp with his fingertips. 

Unable to resist, Harley dipped her head back with a long, shameless moan that would’ve made a politician blush; but, unlike everyone else she tortured, Edward was physically unaffected and leaned his head forward to whisper in her ear.

“Mm, that’s a damn good impression of a five dollar whore, darling.” 

“Hey, that’s still three bucks more than my usual rate,” she murmured, wiggling with pleasure. 

“Sit still,” his voice was an amused hiss. “And relax.” 

Biting her lip, Harley shifted her hips back and forth in silence; the warmth of his body against hers, the scent of his cologne, those wicked fingers she’d previously looked at with such longing now massaging her so persistently… he was destroying her ability to think straight. 

“Turn off your brain,” he said; he probably meant to sound cosseting, but all she heard was his sadistic enjoyment of her unravelling state of mind. 

In this kind of contest he would always win: she gave in. 

“I’m tryin’,” she breathed, writhing. “But the good little Boy Scout got me tied up in knots.” 

In response, he grasped her hair in one fist to turn her head, regarding her a moment.

"Surrender accepted," he murmured, pulling her into a kiss. 

Normally his style was calm, controlled - but Harley was eager and responded with passion, pulling at his shirt buttons with scrabbling fingers. So he met her enthusiasm with a focused intensity, he pulled her up and onto his lap; his quick hands ran up her back, unhooking her bra under her tank, then dragging it out and tossing it aside; she unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, the other hand travelling up to tangle in his hair. 

Huffing impatiently, she yanked off her tank and pushed his shirt off his shoulders, keen to connect their bare skin. As he shifted his mouth to kiss her neck, he snaked one hand up to pinch at a nipple, making her buck against him. 

“You don’t go down easy, do you,” he murmured in her ear. 

“I’ll stick in ya throat,” she hissed, turning her head to catch his mouth again; he traced a path up the gusset of her tights with one finger to ask, 

“Speaking of oral fixations, you want me to…?” 

“No,” she shook her head vigorously. “That’s his thing.” 

“Say no more,” he murmured, clapping both hands to her backside and lifting them both off the couch in one fluid movement, eliciting a squeak of delighted surprise. 

“Where we goin’?” 

“Greener pastures,” he replied, carrying her to the bedroom and lowering her down onto the bed. “Let me look at you,” he said, taking hold and pulling off her leggings with two hands. 

Tilting his head to the side, he took her in: the high, perky breasts, perfect nipples happily erect; the smooth, flat stomach; the strong legs; the blonde pubic hair cut in the shape of a diamond, dampened and darkened with arousal. Harley raised her eyebrows and sat up, tucking her legs under her. 

“Well?”

Edward lifted one side of his mouth and nodded in appreciation. 

“What a beautiful girl,” he said, placing his shirt on a nearby dressing chair and removing his trousers as he spoke. “Hiding away from the rest of the world.” 

“Instead of quotin’ my song at me,” she said. “Ya can show me what I’ve been missin’, instead.” 

Now down to just his black thong, Edward took an unsmiling step toward her. 

“Oh yeah?” 

Anyone else would have crept back on the bed, intimidated, but Harley stayed put, waiting. 

"Yeah." 

“Very well,” he bowed mockingly. “I’m honour-bound to obey the lady.” 

“If there was one here, ya'd prob'ly kill her,” she teased, licking her lips. 

“You well recall I was acquitted of that, _ma chérie_ ,” he drawled, resting his hands on the bed to lean over her: Harley lifted her face to look at him, their noses touching. 

“Ya gonna end up killin’ me if ya make _me_ wait much longer. What'll ya do then?" 

“I’m sure I could slip the noose,” he stepped away to take off the thong and then tossed it to her; she caught it in one grasping fist, eyes dark with lust. 

"Fuckin' hope so," she breathed. 

Lean body, light muscle tone… a simply ravishing taper from freckled shoulder down to jutting hip bone that she longed to trace a path over with her tongue - and a sleek cock standing almost as proud as he was. 

"It'd be a shame to waste a tragedy like yaself, Eddie,” she said, biting her lip and breathing through her nose. "When ya just beggin’ for someone to fuck ya up.” 

"I can’t believe I’m hearing this," Edward crawled up the bed, pursuing her to the top. “You’re trying to seduce me _now?_ " 

“What if I was?” Harley teased, lifting her face up toward his; he cocked his head, eyes twinkling with mirth. 

"Wasted effort. You've already got me." 

Harley grinned, baring her teeth. “If this weren’t ya show, I’d already be on ya.” 

“What admirable restraint.” 

“Ya got no idea.” 

“Does that mean you’re going to let me drive?” 

Chuckling, he opened a bedside drawer to retrieve a condom; her eyes glittered with malice as she watched him move. 

“If ya don't go too fast or fuck up the turns.” 

“Thought so,” he said, moving too quickly for her to stop him; before she knew what was going on, her wrists were handcuffed to the bedposts. 

Edward looked down at her, face impassive. 

“Can’t have you fighting me. How’s that for restraint? Admirable?” 

Clenching her fists, she hissed, “This better be good.” 

“Only one way to find out,” he purred in her ear, lifting her hips. "Trust me, darling.” 

By now she was so slick, he had no trouble getting his first two fingers inside. Bucking up from the touch, she threw her head back as he kneaded her swollen bud with his thumb.

Breaths hissing from between her teeth, she managed, “Gotta play games with me, huh?” 

“Simply taking the edge off,” he said, tone matter-of-fact. “You’re becoming frenzied.” 

Body bending and twisting with stimulation, her voice was a guttural hiss. 

“Fuck you.” 

“All in due course,” he smiled. “Let’s calm you down some, first.” 

When he increased the pressure, Harley wailed out a piercing cry as she was shoved into oblivion; she gasped in a breath and looked up at him, chest heaving and legs shaking. 

“God, those fuckin’ fingers… ” 

“Better?” 

“Good start,” she managed. “What else ya got?” 

“Spoiled brat,” he scolded, shaking his head. “That excess of lip sounds like you are nowhere near pliant enough.”

“I could be,” she pouted, changing gears, “if ya let me loose.” 

“And why would I do a thing like that, my darling?” he stroked up and down her legs as he spoke; Harley bit her lip, hips writhing under the touch - she had to get her hands on him soon or she’d scream. 

“I’ll be good.” 

“So you say. Do you swear?” 

“I can swear ya a fuckin’ blue streak, I swear to fuckin’ God.” 

“Such a dirty little mouth,” he said, unimpressed. “You’ll need to earn your freedom.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

Inhaling through his nose, Edward ran his hands up her body, the rest of his own following to look down at her face. 

“Come for me one more time, and I’ll let you out.” 

"I can't do hands-free," she breathed. 

"Maybe one day," he said, reaching down with a smirk. "Now say when." 

After but a few caresses, Harley came with a shriek; watching her, he was true to his word and didn’t relent until she finally buckled and collapsed onto the bed under shaking legs, twitching and overstimulated. 

“When,” she rasped out, “Fuckin’... when.” 

“I’ll accept that,” Edward let her breathe for a moment, then leaned forward to set her loose; her hands flew up to his neck and hair as soon as she was able, pulling his warm body down to rest on top of her feverish one. 

“That’s better,” she said, greedy in her caresses that sought to map his skin; he didn’t resist, studying her with affection.

"How are you now, angel?" 

“Oh baby, I can’t uncurl my toes,” she gazed up at him adoringly. 

“I must say, your crisis makes quite the spectacle." 

"You bet," she grinned, her eyes gleaming. “Certainly did the trick for Jonny.” 

On cue, Edward's eyes flickered like lightning and his jaw tightened: he dropped his head to her neck.

“And just how many times did you come with him, hmm?”

“Funny thing, it was twice,” she breathed through a wide smile: his clipped tone directly in her ear raised the hairs on her skin. 

“How many was he directly responsible for?” 

“Mmmm, why should I tell ya the truth?” 

“If you don't,” his voice dropped into guttural, “then second base is as far as we go.” 

As blissful as she felt after two consecutive orgasms, her pussy ached with the longing to fuck him, to find out how he felt - and she knew he knew it becauseshe was doing a lousy job of keeping it a secret. 

“Ohh…" she grit her teeth and hit his chest with both fists, "... damn ya, one.” 

“That wasn’t so difficult, now,” he purred, raising his head; the victorious flare lighting up his face was something to behold. 

"Asshole,” she said, licking her teeth; he lifted and dropped his eyebrows, smirking. “Not feelin’ deprived?” 

“Not remotely,” Edward said. “Playing with you is far more fun.”

“What a trip ya are.” 

“You betcha,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her. "I don't need to come at all, if that's your desire." 

"Oh no," she shook her head, grinning. "I gotta see that pretty face fall apart at least once. But…” 

“Hmm?” 

Despite herself, she couldn’t resist provoking him: the boy always had to finish what he started and if him getting mad at her led to more of the same, then all the better.

“I can trust ya to fuck me, right?” 

Edward blinked. 

“I count two crises and you still have doubts?” 

“Ya teasin’ or just stallin’?” 

“Such a bitch,” he murmured, refusing to rise; he dropped one hand over her eyes. “Close your eyes.” 

"Why, ya got somethin' to hide?" 

"Shh." 

Harley stifled a giggle, bit her bottom lip and trembled with the anticipation while he gently pushed her thighs apart with his other hand. So used to getting the usual eager shove of entry, Harley’s head fell back with a huff of exhaled surprise as he took her so slowly she felt every inch. Leaning down, he kissed between her breasts and up to her neck and took up a maddeningly slow yet persistent rhythm; as she recovered from momentary shock, she opened her eyes when he lifted his hand. Of course, he was smiling. 

"Not fair," she said. "I coulda sworn ya wouldn’t know what to do." 

“And yet you have such faith in my skills,” he chuckled, tenderly smoothing hair off her face. 

“Swing I know ya got,” she gasped. “Never reckoned on a proper follow-through.” 

"If I had a dollar…" 

"Oh yeah?" 

"I could have given up this life of shameless debauchery long ago." 

"That’d just break my li'l heart." 

"Ohh,” he pouted in mockery, “we can’t have that." 

As he moved down to kiss her again, she lifted her hips to meet his in an attempt to throw off his rhythm; the attempt failed, but made him laugh. 

“Naughty.” 

“Fuck. I shoulda nailed ya years ago.” 

“I don’t recall giving you the opportunity," he said, now idly creating a holding pattern by way of shallow thrusts. “Some might say that counts for something.”

“Oh, if Selena knew,” she breathed, twitching, “so pissed… she knew ya were a prize.” 

“Didn’t hurt anyone not to know.” 

“Sure as shit didn’t please me,” she snapped; he tilted his head. 

“Not getting truculent, are we?” 

"Just teasin',” she said, lifting her mouth to seek another kiss; he obliged her.

“I know you can’t help yourself.”

"God, you drive me crazy… gonna make me come again." 

"So you will," Edward said, "if you trust me." 

“Fuck, I do now." 

“Can I get that in writing?” 

“Shut up,” Harley grinned, “and fuck me.” 

Matters pivoted smoothly into the romantic when she succumbed: Edward took his time in kissing her throat, her mouth; she reached her hands up to touch his shoulders, his face, anywhere she could reach, tangling together as they moved across the bed. In the pillowy, wordless moment Harley became aware of all the sensations around her in these altogether new surroundings: a ticking grandfather clock, the interlocking of his fingers with hers, the crackling of an ornamental fireplace… his lips on her neck, the cool slide of silk sheets against her skin, the incomparable fullness that made her feel complete. It wasn’t the soft noises he made - it was the breathless, hitching moans from her own mouth, scattered with her constant pleas for more, more, more that echoed long and loud inside her brain. 

_Oh, he’s bent me to go his way,_ she realised in a ringing, crystalline moment of clarity. _He’s seen me and Puddin’ fuck before, he knew this ain’t how I do._

Feeling her body stiffen, he lifted his head to look down at her in inquisition. 

“What is it?” 

_Clever boy. I don’t give him enough credit._

Those eyes, sharp as razors, were assessing her own; his eyebrows furrowed when she made no reply. 

"Harley?" 

_It is ridiculously sexy that he figured out in advance how he would fuck me. That he knew just where to stick the knife that’d drop me to my knees._

Edward's face darkened; his voice grew harsh. 

“Answer me. Now.” 

The sight of that familiar, sexy anger burned a hot brand through her body, made all the more resonant by their current compromising position that could get either or both of them killed; her eyelids dropped. 

“No,” she said, pleasure surging as she flexed her legs and pulled him in deeper. “Nothing wrong. But don’t ya dare stop.” 

“Good," he said, face and voice smoothing, "because I must now insist that you come a third time.” 

Sliding a slow hand up her leg, he brought one of her knees upright and angled her pelvis up, dipping his head to kiss her neck again. 

“Insist, huh?” Harley giggled as she moved with him, dying to know what else was on his mind. 

"Twice sounds… oh, accidental, to me," he murmured against her throat, thrusts again melting into short and shallow; Harley's breath caught, closing her eyes as she relished the teasing croon wending its way down to her toes. 

Edward's hips ground against hers just so, pulling her up to the edge; she helplessly made twitching, thrusting movements upward, voice degrading into a trickle of needy whimpers. Amused at the mess he was making of her, Edward pulled at her hair to breathe one more sin in her ear, deliberating over every word. 

"Indulge me the singular pleasure of seeing you come again." 

“Ohh, Eddie, goddamn… ” she moaned, chest curling up and nails scoring down his back; he watched her crack apart with a smile twisting his mouth, the merest twitch acknowledging her tearing at his skin. 

"I suppose thrice merits you one in return." 

Edward waited until she was recovered and watching before he made efforts to provide the desired release that many wanted but few got to see; he groaned like he was in pain as his composure crumbled with such unfamiliar vulnerability Harley couldn’t look away. Resting his brow on the plate of her sternum, she cradled his head with both hands, covering it with kisses. In that tender moment where reality wobbled on its axis, their hearts beat hard and out of time; eyes closed, they existed on a plane comprised only of the contact of their skin and the sound of their breath. Kissing the spot where his lips lay, Edward felt Harley’s hands drop away. She was quiet for so long, he raised his head to give her a pensive look. 

"Still here?" 

Harley nodded and smiled, then ran her fingers through his hair. 

"Oh yeah." 

“Now, keep yourself just as you are,” he said, kissing her collarbone. “Until I return.” 

Throwing her a wink, he raised himself up and went to the bathroom; she watched him go, enjoying the departing view. 

“Man, knew he was a big fish... or maybe a performin' seal. Three to one,” she murmured, stretching upward and tousling her hair, replete in the afterglow. "Mama likes that ratio.” 

Edward walked to the mirror, took up a comb and fixed his hair, then assessed the scratches on his skin with a faint frown. 

“Better than a bite, I suppose,” he said, then disposed of the used condom and returned to bed; Harley settled onto his chest with a contented huff. 

“Such an asshole. Y'know that, right?" 

Edward chuckled and gently stroked her back. 

“Mm, do tell. What’d I do this time?” 

“Tricked me. Rude.” 

“It’s possible. Could I plead first offence?” 

“Sure, if it was the first time.” 

“In that case,” Edward said, “I plead the fifth.” 

“Wise decision,” Harley giggled. “When’d ya start?” 

“Start what?” 

“On me.” 

“Maybe don’t over analyse things, my darling,” he said, tracing a path up her spine with his middle fingernail. Harley shivered, goosebumps peppering her skin. “It’ll give you wrinkles.” 

“Some kinda dermatologist, huh?” she said, lifting her chin to look at him. 

“You don’t believe in the depth of my knowledge?” 

“Well, see,” she said, as a slow smile crept across her face. "If ya wanna know your depth, I could -” 

“Cute,” he cut across, touching their noses together. “But you’re not plumbing me like you do with so many others.” 

“Pity. Ya’d look so pretty on the receivin’ end,” she said, tracing her fingers around his skin; he smirked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“I can just picture it, if ya woke up tied down. Prob’ly be so mad ya couldn’t talk for a bit… and ya so damn hot when ya get mad,” she breathed. 

Intrigued, he drew her close and danced both hands up and down her back, playing her like a piano; she shivered. 

“Continue.” 

“Gimme half a chance, I’d go all in and wreck that heavenly body, just ‘cause I can…” she said, pausing. “... God, it’s poetry. Almost as poetic as what ya can get that dick to do.” 

Edward laughed, dropping his head. 

“You’ll earn yourself another round, the way you’re headed,” he murmured, planting a long, soft kiss on her lips; she giggled against his mouth. 

“Ooh, little bitta praise and ya go down easy.” 

In response, Edward raised one hand to yank her head back by the hair, revealing the full length of her neck: she caught her breath. As he covered her skin with slow, biting kisses, she moaned and thrust against him, immediately aroused; he let go and laughed. 

“Nowhere near as easy as you. You dropped what few cards you had as fast as you dropped your ever-absent panties.” 

She licked her lips, unabashed. 

“I’ve always wanted to fuck ya, and then it turns out ya know how. Can ya blame me?” 

“Well, when you put it like that… ” he paused, and blinked. “Always?” 

“Always,” she nodded emphatically, smiling. “Ya go ‘round lookin’ the way ya do and then expect a gal not to wanna hit that? I call ya a sexy bitch for a reason.” 

Edward opened his mouth to speak, closed it - and then kissed her, cupping her face with both hands: Harley moaned into the kiss as he grinned. 

“Fuck me,” she said. “If y’were a dreamboat all the time, I’d be on ya like a shot." 

Edward tapped the end of her nose with his index finger. 

"Only when I’m on show, you know that." 

“Showerin’ me in orgasms and takin’ none for yaself…” she blew out a breath, “I can’t lie, ‘s addictive.” 

“Well, it’s what people want, isn’t it?” 

He lifted her knuckles to kiss them; Harley exhaled, humming. 

"Sorta. Never thought ya’d run with my idea of fakin’ it quite like ya did.” 

“It was a good idea,” Edward said. “When I set my mind to something, I master it.” 

“God, if I didn’t know who ya were underneath, I’d fall like a ton o' bricks."

“Hey, I’m not stopping you." 

“Don’t even,” Harley poked him in the ribs; he jerked, snickering. 

“Alright, alright - I did say I was good.” 

"God forbid ya leave that part out." He laughed and she paused, growing serious. “Thanks. Ya didn't have to do it - but ya did." 

Edward pressed a kiss to the top of her head without reply. 

“God, just think what we coulda been," she said. “Road not taken, eh?” 

Edward smoothed some stray strands of hair off her face. 

"Except you already know I’m not what you want,” he said, speaking against her forehead. 

“Do I?” 

“I’m able to perform, as I just proved…” 

“Mmm,” she smiled, trailing her fingers over his torso. 

“But I’m not able to crave you in the way you need: it would only ever be pretend." 

“I know, it wouldn’t be fair. At least not for you,” she kissed his chest, feigning a bite. "Not that I'd say no to ya bein' my slave." 

“Indeed. But, you deserve more than my brilliant ruses." 

“Sweet talker,” Harley giggled. "Anyone else woulda just taken the offer and pounded me into the ground - get me for all I'm worth and toss me away." 

"Yes," he pulled her in. "Anyone else." 

Edward kissed her slowly, enveloping her in his arms. Whining with frustration as she kissed back, she clung to him as he segued from depth to dropping one small kiss after another onto her mouth. As he pulled away and buried his face in her neck, she groaned. 

"Damn," she said. 

Smirking, he pressed his lips against the skin and breathed in her scent. 

“Mm. Mandarin, lily, orchid… ” 

“I coulda just given ya the name.” 

“Where’s the fun in that,” he murmured, inhaling down her neck. “When I’m able to take a moment to enjoy you, instead?” 

Harley moaned through a breathy laugh, writhing and ticklish. 

“God, must ya rub it in?” 

“Rub what in?” 

“How perfect ya can be when ya not yaself.” 

“Just flexing a muscle,” he said, planting kisses on her collarbone; she pressed her body against his, head falling backward. 

“Flex on me all ya want.” 

“ _C’est l‘idée, ma sirène…_ ” 

“I said tragedy,” she sighed, “and I meant it. God, what a waste.” 

“I’m not wasting myself on you.” 

“Smooth,” she said. “Where does the real Eddie stop and the illusion Eddie begin?" 

“That’s the real mystery,” he murmured, shifting his mouth to her ear. 

“Ya better be lookin’ to finish what ya start,” she said, eyes falling shut; he chuckled and touched a soft kiss on her earlobe. 

"Mmmmaybe if you earn it." 

"Earn?” she shrieked, wriggling out of his arms and tumbling out of bed. “I'll show ya earn." 

Edward watched her run out of the room, amused. 

"Where are you going?" 

"To get stuff from ya fridge,” she hollered back. “Show ya what I can do." 

"Great," he said to himself, "the real acting begins…” he raised his voice. “Bring me a bottle of wine, would you darling?” 

“Anythin’ in particular?” 

“They’re all good.” 

“Ya got it, sweet cheeks.” 

In her absence Edward got up and retrieved his dress shirt; he reached into the breast pocket and took out a small transmitting bug. As he held it carefully between finger and thumb, he picked up the receiver from his bookcase, rewound it some, and then brought it to his ear. 

“Shut up… and fuck me.” 

The perfectly captured fruit of his labours filled his ear; her submission to his will had pleased him more than he could describe, and far more than any carnal activity ever could.

"God, what a pity there's no visuals. I would love to see that particular performance back again. One of my greatest hits, I’d wager,” he purred, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he moved around the room. “You see my darling, if, and this is unlikely, your man finally drove that big white clown car into the sky: your grief may be real now, but… ” 

Edward put the receiver back and placed the bug within his bedside lampshade. 

"You will either recover, or the clown will bounce back up, intact, and you’ll be more than fine. Don’t forget that I know you better than most. One day, for a laugh, you will fillet Jon for his mistake like a big dumb mackerel and he'll have to take it for being fool enough to trust you." 

"Aha!" Harley called from the other room. "Ya do have peanut butter!" 

"So if you try to burn me for this singular act of _immeasurable_ charity," he hissed, turning in the direction of the door, "I'll make damn sure your idiot boyfriend and all of Gotham hears you begging me for more in perfect surround sound.” 

Edward took a breath in and collected himself. 

“Don't say I never do anything for you." 

When Harley reappeared, he was settled back in bed with his arms stretched behind his head. 

“Ready or not, hot stuff,” she said, breasts covered by one arm holding food, the other hand brandishing a bottle in the air. 

“Bring it on,” he replied, tossing his head with a winning smile.


	2. Epilogue: The Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Once the flames go out, someone has to either build a new fire, or concede to sweep out the ashes._

Finally worn out, Harley fell into a doze so Edward took the opportunity to extricate himself from her arms; moving silently throughout the room, he threw on a dressing robe and went into the kitchen. Sighing, he flicked on the track lighting above the island, then started the kettle and brewed some tea. The whole apartment was in darkness except for the halo of illumination above his head; Edward hunched over and stared at his teapot, expression bleak.

“I used to think she was like my sister,” he dropped his head into his hands. “Better throw that thought out for… ever.”

A rustling noise caught his attention and he looked up, pushing his hair out of his face; Harley had appeared in the doorway, wearing one of his shirts. They stared at each other for a long time until he broke the silence.

“Why can’t I say no to you?”

“Ya did,” she murmured, leaning against the door frame.

“Funny thing is, I don’t recall saying it in so many words.”

Harley tried a smile. “Guess I can be persuasive.”

“Something like that,” he said, turning his head and covering his mouth in case he said something he couldn’t take back.

“But I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t love every second,” she said, padding closer; he watched her and said nothing.

With a little huff, she tried to hop up on one of the island stools but was just too short and didn’t make it; Edward came around and offered his hand.

“Thanks,” she smiled, taking it; he guided her up, squeezing her fingers before going back around to the other side.

“What is that?” she asked, nodding at the green clay teapot he was filling his small cup from.

“Decaffeinated green tea,” he said, setting it down a coaster. “You want some?”

"Mm," Harley wrinkled her nose. “Got any coffee?”

“For you, I just might.”

Resting her chin on her hands, she smiled fondly as he pulled out a French press and took hold of the kettle again.

“I believe I’ve got some coconut oil around if you still take yours bulletproof.”

“Hey now,” she groaned, “ya tryin’ to turn me on?”

“Not purposefully,” he shook his head. “Is that a no, then?”

“Better just make it black, in case ya want me to jump ya again.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, scooping out coffee and pouring water over, “but you can take a cold shower if you want. Or bath.”

“Mm,” she said, watching him move around the kitchen. “Thanks, but -” she looked up into his face. “I don’t wanna break the spell.”

Despite himself, he had to smile. 

“That must be one of the sweeter ways I’ve been told that someone wants to keep my smell on them.”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning forward to rest on her elbows. “Guess there aren’t so many PG-13 ways to say that. So. Do ya regret it?”

“Do you?”

“I asked first.”

So bidden and shrugging out the concession he gave the question due thought.

“No,” he said eventually. “I wouldn’t have done it if I thought I might regret it. I'm nowhere near benevolent enough for that.”

Harley smiled, touched; Edward delivered her coffee then walked around the island to cup her face with both hands.

“And you?” he murmured, bending down to plant a kiss on her lips. “What do you regret?”

“Nothin’ at all,” she said, eyes open and honest. “‘Cept maybe not findin’ out sooner.”

Before he could pull away, she raised her hands and gripped his forearms.

“Not done,” she whispered, pulling him in; he laughed against her mouth and drew her close.  
“Too good at that,” she said when they did finally break off; he smiled and smoothed her hair off her face.

“You know me, I just have to be the best.”

“Yeah, I know who y’are,” she dragged her fingers through her hair to untangle it, “known ya for years. But it can still be hard to accept.”

Edward fell silent as he pulled her in and held her close, dipping down into his thoughts.

It was absolutely true that Harley knew who he was, the whole of him; she knew him without the show, the bluster, the mask. She knew the horrible truth and this made her a better judge of his measure than the rest of the world he kept at perpetual arm’s length. Despite knowing everything about him, she still liked him. 

Edward loved who he was, was proud of who he had become and wouldn’t change himself for anything, but he was also more than aware that he was an acquired taste he didn’t care to tempt others to acquire. It was that aspect in particular that made him see her as kin to his sister: that same boundless acceptance of everything that he was.

The sticking point was, Edward knew her, too. There was Harleen Quinzel, true enough, the doctor he had met a lifetime ago who had been unable to puncture his impenetrable narcissism, like all the others, but unlike the rest she figured out that he wasn’t insane and instead of ratting him out proved to be a decent sparring partner: intelligent, insightful, and sharp. But there was also the other half of her, because she was still Harley Quinn. Tempestuous, impulsive, unpredictable: the very real part of her that he needed his little insurance policy against. 

While they let others believe the lie in order to expand on his notoriety, the Joker had not created Harley Quinn because she ultimately created herself. However, he did keenly encourage her to scream that particular voice out into the world as loud and as often as possible and damn the consequences. She was Harleen Quinzel as much as she was Harley Quinn; there was no delineation between the two because she was the same ridiculous, impossible, loveable woman all wrapped up in one package. 

Alone together, he could occasionally hypothesise that they could be more than platonic. But, sooner or later, her unencumbered self would reappear and chafe against his own idiosyncrasies and he would realise his mistake: one of them would have to downplay themselves in order for the road to run smoother than it did rough. 

For once there was no palming off or fudging of the truth when he said that he wasn’t what she needed: he could never authentically make her happy without denying some part of his true self. Whether she starved from his lack of desire or full attention, he could never be the man she deserved. For her part, she had shaken loose of such tender shackles years ago. She would never modify her behaviour for anyone, which was to her credit: even her manipulations stank of the truth. There was a woman playing games, doing anything to succeed, but she wouldn’t act against her own wishes.

Maybe in a world the Joker was never in. Maybe in a world where he had similar sexual drives to other men… maybe even in a world where the world shook apart and broke them into different versions of themselves.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his chest like a cat.

“Nothing much,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

Maybe in another world, it could have worked.


End file.
